


One, Two, Three

by Yatorihell



Series: In The Darkness [40]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, ノラガミ | Noragami
Genre: Multi, Yule Ball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-15 00:17:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14147760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yatorihell/pseuds/Yatorihell
Summary: They expected a challenge, but they certainly didn't expect a ball.Thank you Emily (hiyoris_scarf) for beta-ing me <3Accompanying art by Jo (http://eerna.tumblr.com/post/170808247087/my-aesthetic-is-the-entire-school-trying-to-find)





	One, Two, Three

**Author's Note:**

> Of course, they practice dancing to the Potter Waltz by Patrick Doyle.

The last thing anyone expected from the Triwizard Tournament was a ball. The Yule Ball.

Although it had been restricted to the participating year groups - fourth years for Suzuha and fifth years for Yato, as well as the visiting school groups - the small chamber was full of a mingle of fourth year students; boys on the right, girls on the left.

Madame Kofuku made the announcement as Kiun wrestled with an ancient gramophone which let out a short blast of music before being switched off. With that, Madame Kofuku began to explain.

“The Yule Ball has been a tradition of the Triwizard Tournament since its founding,” she paced slowly as she spoke, “On Christmas Eve night, you will gather in the Great Hall with our guests for a night of merriment.”

Madame Kofuku paused, a hundred-watt smile on her face. “You are expected to put your best foot forward, quite literally, because the Yule Ball is, first and foremost, a dance.”

Painful groans came from the boys, some sinking further into their chairs in embarrassment at the prospect of having to have this dance class, and even worse, be paired with a girl. The girls, on the other hand, whispered excitedly and flicked their hair.

Hiyori caught Yukine’s eye shrugged, giving him an _‘oh well’_ smile.

Madame Kofuku wasted no time in starting the dance lesson, leading by example. She chose her victim from the boys, which just so happened to be Yukine despite him trying to shrink behind Suzuha and push him forward in his place.

Yukine begrudgingly joined Madame Kofuku on the dance floor. He was a head taller than her, allowing him to stare at the exit in desire and wish the ground would swallow him whole as she took his left hand in her own and placed her other on his shoulder.

“Now put your hand on my waist.”

Yukine turned a startling shade of red, staring around at the giggling students as if he couldn’t believe what she had just said in front of everyone. _“W-where?!”_

“My waist,” Madame Kofuku repeated.

Humiliated, Yukine placed his hand lightly on her waist. He immediately let go at the sound of a wolf whistle, turning his head to raise his middle finger at Suzuha. He wore a gleeful grin, arms crossed across his chest, clearly enjoying the show.

Madame Kofuku quickly pushed Yukine’s hand back onto her waist.

Yukine stared at the ground, ears pink and honed onto the sniggering behind him as the gramophone began to play a rusty tune.

After a moment of twirling, Madame Kofuku instructed the students to pair up, allowing Yukine to slink over to Hiyori with his pink cheeks.

“Nice dancing,” Hiyori smiled.

Yukine groaned, rolling his head back to stare at the ceiling. “That was _so_ embarrassing!”

Hiyori pushed his shoulder playfully. “It wasn’t that bad.”

She looked over Yukine’s shoulder.

“Don’t you want to practice with Suzuha?”

Yukine turned even pinker and looked over his shoulder. He could see a Hufflepuff girl – Tomoko, he believed – had already taken Suzuha as a partner.

“W-why would I practice with him?”

Hiyori smiled, taking his hand. “Just an idea.”

They took their positions, falling into clumsy steps and staring at their feet as they worked out a pattern that didn’t involve stepping on toes or bashing kneecaps. Once they were comfortable, they looked up and smiled at each other before Hiyori’s face clouded.

She leaned back slightly, eyebrows drawn together.

Yukine cocked his head to the side. “What’s wrong?”

“You’ve gotten taller,” Hiyori said.

Yukine leaned back slightly too, and a smile pulled at his lips when he saw that he was about the same height as she was now, eyes just above her level.

“Not so short now, eh?”

Hiyori huffed and kicked his toe lightly as they stepped, eliciting a small laugh from Yukine. “Don’t get cocky!”

 

~

 

In the library during lunch, Hiyori and Yukine found Yato loitering close to Bishamon and Kazuma who were studying at a book-strewn table.

It turned out the fifth years had dance practice with Professor Tsuyu, who made the grave mistake of pairing Yato and Bishamon together.

Hiyori noticed Yato was dishevelled, tie undone and shirt sticking out of his trousers as if he had just been in a fight.

Yato dragged them over to the window, eyeing Bishamon warily when she flicked her hair over her shoulder and leaned over Kazuma to reach for a book. Yato was sure he saw Kazuma turn a violent shade of purple, but he had more important things on his mind.

“I thought fighting a dragon was bad,” Yato hissed, “Bishamon nearly killed me when I had to dance with her!”

Hiyori couldn’t stop the smile on her lips as he quietly ranted about how Bishamon kept stepping on his toes and that he would never walk properly again.

“You know she’s still annoyed about not being chosen,” Yukine said.

He shrugged off his robe and threw it on the window seat, dumping his bag on the ground after taking out a book. He sat down, back propped up and book resting on his knees as he flicked through it.

“It’s not _my_ fault!” Yato whined, “I would’ve given her to Kazuma if I could have!”

Hiyori shook her head. “Don’t you have more important things to worry about? Like that egg?”

Yato huffed at the change in conversation. “I’ve tried everything, all it does is scream when I open it!”

“Eggs can’t scream, Yato.”

“Well, this one does,” Yato rested his elbow against the wall, hand tucked behind as he scratched his head.

They fell into a lull of quiet, the scratching of quill on parchment reaching their ears and Kauzma’s quiet voice as he spoke to Bishamon.

“I wonder if Manabu has worked it out yet,” Hiyori said idly.

Yato prickled. _So what if he’s worked it out?_

“Suzuha has,” Yukine interrupted.

He didn’t notice the surprised look both Yato and Hiyori turned to give him, flicking the page of his book with little interest in its contents. “He carried his egg everywhere. I think he even took it to the bathroom.”

Yato scrunched his nose. “Why the hell would he take it _there_?”

Yukine shrugged in response and they fell into a ponderous quiet which was broken a moment later by the bell.

Hiyori shouldered her bag. “I’ve got Transfiguration, I’ll see you later!”

Yukine raised his hand in farewell, both him and Yato watching Hiyori weave out of the bookstands.

“So, who are you going to take to the ball?” Yukine asked. He made no move to leave despite the library beginning to empty.

Yato looked at him. “What do you mean?”

“It is a dance. I believe you need a partner.”

Yato hadn’t thought of that. He stuttered before Yukine interrupted with a sly, hidden smile.

“I think Manabu wants to go with Hiyori,” Yukine said idly.

He watched Yato’s reaction out of the corner of his eye, and, as expected, Yato’s face clouded over with jealousy. “Why would she go with him?”

“Well, it’s clear how he feels about her,” Yukine drawled.

Yato turned purple, clearly biting his tongue as he tried to keep his voice casual. “And what’s that got to do with me?”

“I just think you should tell Hiyori how you feel before he does.”

“What do you mean, _‘how I feel’_?”

“God, you need help,” Yukine snapped his book shut and swung his legs around. Very slowly and very clearly, Yukine said five words. Ones that would make Yato understand what he was getting at.

“Ask. Her. To. The. Ball.”

A lightbulb went off in Yato’s head. _He_ could be her partner instead. He just had to get there first.

“Oh, Yukine,” he breathed, “you’re a _genius_.”

 

~

 

Yato’s first proposal was pitiful.

Yato waited for Hiyori outside her second to last class of the day, going over and over what he was going to say. It all fell out of his head the second the classroom door opened and Hiyori and Yukine emerged, waving at him as he stared at Hiyori stupidly.

“We’ve got Herbology, where are you?” Hiyori asked.

“H-History of Magic,” Yato swallowed hard, eyes flicking to Yukine who raised his eyebrows expectantly.

He was too slow to speak as Hiyori carried on: “Oh, well, see you at dinner!”

Hiyori brushed past him, and as her arm grazed against him, Yato suddenly caught her wrist. It tugged slightly as Hiyori’s footsteps faltered and she half-turned to face him.

“Yato?” she said his name with a hint of confusion, eyes flicking from their hands to his face.

He stared at her blankly. _Why did I do that?_

Her wrist was slack in his grip, unresisting even though Yukine had now walked a good distance away without noticing she wasn’t behind him. She waited for Yato to say something, but he kept staring at her face.

“I… um…” Yato began – or tried – to blunder out some form of proposal, but her eyes on him and the feeling of her small wrist caught in his hand made it harder to think straight, let alone ask her out.

Her bright smile made it harder to concentrate, and the crowd streaming around them made Yato’s words stick in his throat.

 _What if she says no_? he thought.

Yato let go of her wrist, confidence disintegrating. “Nothing. I’ll see you later.”

With that he turned on his heel and ran up the stairs.

 

~

 

Yato spent the next few days’ breaks in the library devising the perfect plan to ask Hiyori to the ball.

He lazily drew on a piece of parchment, chin in his hand and trying to think of something less specular than ‘fireworks display and proposal’. He wouldn’t use any of the numerous ideas he had crossed out, but it was the thought of asking her that counted.

"Excuse me?”

Yato looked up at the voice, surprised to see it was Manabu standing in front of him with a warm, though nervous, smile. He sported the same blue cape he wore at the assembly, smooth peaked cap held to his chest with one arm. Surprisingly, he didn’t have as strong of an accent as the other Beauxbatons students.

“May I talk to you?”

Yato _‘uuh-ed’_ before nodding, gesturing to the vacant seat and sweeping the parchment out of sight.

“Your friend, the red girl -,”

Yato pricked instantly. He folded his arms over his chest and leant back in his chair, not caring if his expression was sour. “Yes?”

“Does she, uh, have, how you say, un amoureux?” Manaubu waved his hand as he looked for the English word, failing to find it and settling for French, hoping Yato would understand.

Yato started at him blankly.

Manabu cleared his throat, trying again. “Un petit-amie?”

When Yato’s expression didn’t change, Manabu realised that he wasn’t going to get through.

He gave a small, fake laugh, trying to hide his embarrassment. He rose to his feet and fitted the cap back on his head, hands crossed in front of him.

“I’m sorry to waste your time, mon copain. I wish you good luck in the following trials.” Manabu gave Yato a short bow before turning, cape fluttered around his shoulders as he left.

Yato felt a hand on the back of his chair and he looked up. Kazuma stood behind him, watching the Beauxbatons champion leave.

“What did he want?” Kazuma looked down at Yato, glasses sliding down his nose a fraction. “Did he tell you how to open the egg?”

“Why would I ask him for help?” Yato said shortly.

“I believe you’re the only person who hasn’t worked out what the next trial is.”

Yato groaned and dropped his head onto the desk with a loud bang. The egg did nothing. Unless the other champions were fluent in the language of screaming, then there was no way to tell what the egg was ‘saying’.

 _‘I think he even took it to the bathroom,’_ Yukine’s words filled Yato’s head about how Suzuha had worked out the next challenge.

Yato bolted upright. He swept his belongings into his bag, not caring if the ink pot spilled before he threw the bag strap over his shoulder and raced out of the library, calling hasty goodbye to Kazuma as he hurtled himself down the flights of stairs.

_Where was that damn egg?_

 

~

 

One hour later, Yato was still sat on toilet lid. He had opened the egg and it gave a hideous scream. He stared at it, waiting for it to burst forth and proclaim the next task. He even talked to in the hope it would give up its secrets.

The gold was smooth under his fingers as he stoked its sides, hesitating to open the latch again in case it – quite literally – scared the crap out of someone in the neighbouring stalls.

Yato sighed and shoved the egg back into his bag, leaving the toilet stall and heading down for lunch.

Yukine was already there when he arrived. Yato dropped his bag on the table with a loud bang, making Yukine jump and cough on his drink.

“I sat on the toilet for an hour with this bloody egg and it still didn’t tell me anything!”

Yukine cursed under his breath, but Yato was pretty sure Yukine was questioning his intelligence.

“I meant the _bath_ room. To bathe.” Yukine gave Yato a deadpan look that reflected their long-suffering friendship.

“Ah.” Yato shut his mouth and sat down, staring at the golden egg which peeked out from his satchel.

Yukine shovelled a mouthful of ketchup-drenched scrambled eggs into his mouth, speaking as he ate. “How’s it going with your imaginary date with Hiyori?”

“It’s not a date, its two friends going to a party together,” Yato corrected. This was the only way he could think about it without have a nervous breakdown over the prospect of asking Hiyori to be his date. “And it’s going horribly, thank you very much. I can’t even dance.”

Yukine made an amused noise as Yato relived the assault he faced from Bishamon during their first - and - last dance together.

Yato put his chin in his hand and made his most charming face, eyes wide. “Could you teach me?”

Yukine choked again, this time much more violently and for much longer until he was bright red and wheezing. “No way! Ask Hiyori to teach you!”

“Teach you what?”

Hiyori had materialised behind him. Yato made a strangled noise, leaping down the bench away from her. He hurried for an excuse.

Yukine grinned, enjoying Yato’s comical flailing, “Oh, just one of the spells he missed from skipping classes last year.”

Hiyori smiled, helping herself to a sandwich from the platters. “Sure, but I have to go meet Aimi and Yama. I’ll see you later!”

“Don’t do that again,” Yato hissed once Hiyori was out of earshot.

Yukine grinned slyly, ignoring the daggers Yato glared at him. “No promises.”

 

~

 

On her way to meet Aimi and Yama, Hiyori was stopped by Manabu.

It almost seemed like he was waiting for her, standing at attention near one of the arches of the corridor overlooking the snowy courtyard, and watching her approach with a smile. He was wearing a much longer cloak that brushed the ground, hat dusted with snow and cheeks tickled by the snowy kisses that drifted down.

Hiyori smiled at him as she passed, but Manabu stepped in front of her before she could enter the main building. Hiyori stopped short, nearly colliding with him.

“Hello Hiyori,” Manabu said.

Hiyori was taken aback. _He knows my name?_

“Hello Manabu,” Hiyori replied politely. She made a move to go around him, which Manabu mirrored.

“Ah, mademoiselle, a moment please,” Manabu held a gloved hand out to Hiyori, which, after a moment’s hesitation, she took.

“Since I have come to this school, I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” Manabu started.

Hiyori flushed, heart hammering. What was this?

Hiyori’s fingers curled around his hand whilst Manabu tucked his other hand behind his back. A flurry of snowflakes blew around them, making the rest of the world vanish into a silvery grey that was framed by the stone arches of the castle.

Hiyori’s fingers curled around his hand whilst the other tucked behind his back. A flurry of snowflakes blew around them, making the rest of the world vanish into a silvery grey that was framed by the stones arches of the castle.

Manabu bowed his head, but his eyes stayed on Hiyori’s astonished face.

“Mon Cherie, will you do me the honour of accompanying me to the ball?”

 

~

 

“If you step on me one more time I’m leaving.”

“Yukine, please, I’m sorry!”

Yato and Yukine had found a private room for their brief dance lesson in their free time that evening. Yukine had begrudgingly agreed to teach him the steps once, and dance once, and then Yato was on his own.

This didn’t matter as he found out Yato was a slow learner. A very slow learner.

“Left. I said LEFT!”

“Is this right?”

“No, that’s my foot.”

“Y’know Hiyori is shorter than you, crouch down.”

“Fuck off.”

“You’re meant to be helping me!”

Yukine grumbled some more but was determined to see this through until the bitter end. They waltzed around the room a few more times, Yukine hissing every now and then and Yato’s quick apologies as he trod on his toes.

Yato huffed. “Is this it?”

Yukine shook his head. “Each jeté of the string instruments a queue for the champions to lift their partners.”

He put his finger in the air, queueing Yato to listen to the violins as they soared and fell in a quick pace.

“Then pick her up and half-spin,” Yukine said once the lifted note had passed.

Yato gave him a wary look. He moved to let go of Yukine’s hand to place it on his waist.

Yukine glared at him. “Don’t even think about it.”

Yato let go of Yukine and moved to turn off the gramophone.

“Who are you going to go with anyway?” Yato asked, back to Yukine as he fiddled with the record. The music stopped with a scratch, replaced by the tap of footsteps as Yukine moved to get his bag.

Yukine shrugged. “I’m going to ask tonight.”

“Really?!” Yato spun around, face breaking into a delighted smile. “Who?”

Yukine hid his smile as he turned away from Yato, packing up his bag and walking out of the room with a nonchalant farewell that left Yato’s question hanging in the air.

He thought it was obvious who he was asking to the ball. Hiyori seemed to have cottoned on to the blossoming romance a while ago, but Yato was dimmer than most people.

In the dark of the night, lit by soft candles and whispered across dormitory beds, Yukine’s hushed voice asked the question.

The boy in the bed beside him grinned, dark head resting against his pillow and eyes shining in the candlelight.

Suzuha reached out his hand and Yukine took it. He gave it a tight squeeze, fingers interlocked and hearts melting at the proposal and its acceptance.

“I’d love to.”

**Author's Note:**

> Romance? In front of my salad?  
> I wonder what Hiyori will say...  
> I imagine that Kazuma watching Yato and Bishamon dance would just be like this: https://78.media.tumblr.com/f28cc382182d83c22bcaea963f0f9a45/tumblr_n8v19fZHRM1rab3jho3_r1_500.gif  
> As always, kudos and comments are appreciated ~


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